


Bitter Healing

by Delysia



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Awkward Conversations, F/M, Gen, One Shot, Post Chosen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delysia/pseuds/Delysia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Chosen, Faith and Wesley share a cup of coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter Healing

Coffee. The sweet aroma filled the air drifting out on the summer night's breeze where he stood flanked by darkness. Oh how he wished he had brought a cup out with him, but it would have been old, stale and too strong, bitter tasting from sitting all day. Only since his escape did someone have the sense to put on a new pot. The scent made his mouth water the tiniest bit, longing for the forbidden beverage. He knew they would happily hand him a mug filled with the piping hot liquid had he asked but to do so he must surrender his solitude and throw himself into the lion's den with those persistent pestering girls. A fate seemingly worse than death, so he would have to do without. And knowing this made it all the more alluring.

The fragrance appeared to magnify as he gazed out upon the twinkling city lights. Hours ago they had been preparing in case Buffy failed, weapons at the ready, weary and alert with hawk eyes scanning volume after volume for information that might prove useful, but it was unnecessary. He should have known they would come through, they always did. Sunnydale might have fallen but they still stood. It was amazing how they had all grown since he first met them. None of them the people he had known in the library at Sunnydale High. They had transformed into adults. No longer children that need a guiding hand. Not that he ever did much guiding then but still... And now the force of the Slayer was unleashed. Girls all over the world awakening with a new power aflame. He once thought two slayers to be a handful, now there were hundreds the world over; it was mind boggling to say the least.

"Wonderin' where you were hiding." She approached him, sipping from the emerald green mug between her hands as if to warm them.

"Faith," Wesley turned startled. "I just came out for a bit of fresh air-"

"And to escape the giant slumber party inside? Kinda my plan too. Angel made coffee. Would've figured he knew better than to give a bunch of teenagers hyped up on spankin' new slayer-power caffeine but what can I say? He's not too bright." She went to place her hand on the railing and he flinched, drawing his away quickly. It was instinct, pure and simple. Born of pain and developed in fear. Fear of what he didn't know. It couldn't be the pain, he had faced worse than that. Then again maybe he hadn't. Maybe it was fear of pain to come.

A flash of hurt thundered in her eyes before they clouded over as if it had never occurred, blotting it out. But he saw; only a quick glimpse at how he cut her, but he caught it. That was his job, he was a watcher. He was trained to see what others missed. He called her name, a stumbled apology pouring from his lips but she just held up her hand and smiled. It didn't reach her eyes, but she smiled nonetheless. "Hey no big," she shrugged. "Your hide-out first. I'll just go find somewhere else to avoid Angel. No big." She repeated as she turned on her heel and walked towards the roof access.

Her hand was on the knob of the door when his voice halted her. "Avoid Angel?" he questioned but it was more than that, it was an invitation to stay. It was hidden in shadows and coated with false interest but Faith heard it.

"Yeah." She turned around, hand dropping from the door, taking only a step forward incase she misread his tone and he was merely worried about Angel, having her stay to supply information while wishing her gone. "He's sorta lookin' for B. Seems to think I know where she went."

"Which you do," he guessed, cocking his head to one side as if trying to puzzle her out.

She shrugged again, approaching him, leaning over the railing, eyes taking in the lights below, carefully to keep her distance, an invisible barrier of a foot separating them. She lived with walls, she had been caged in them, thick prison walls, walls not seen, ones that she erected herself, stone by stone. Tearing them down took some time, especially when the person on the other side stood firm. Now they stood side by side, on the same team, but apart and she knew the wall was created by her own hand, she couldn't force him to bring it down. Maybe in time it would dissolve; at least she hoped it would. "Well that's not really here nor there, is it?"

"If you know where Buffy is why don't you just tell him? I had begun to think you wouldn't deny Angel anything, even risked your life to subdue Angelus." It wasn't accusatory, it wasn't an interrogation; it was simple ponderings spoken aloud, softly floating on the summer breeze.

She took another sip of coffee before handing the cup off to him. "Not really my place to tell, is it? She needs some time to think, to get things straight in her head; Angel can't help with that. He's all about saving people, but Buffy needs to do this on her own. How I see it, she doesn't need to be rescued, she just needs time to find her feet but she can walk on her own. All Angel would do is try to carry her."

"So you're choosing Buffy over Angel? A girl that you, needless to say, have quite a colorful history with?" He quirked his brow, fascinated with the woman beside him.

"I'm not choosing anyone. I'm just saying I understand what Buffy's going through. Angel tried to carry me but in the end I had to find my own feet. Doubt B's gonna go to prison to find hers like I did but I understand where she's coming from." The irony of the last statement made her smile to herself. "For once," she added with a hint of humor at herself.

Silence descended, as he passed the mug back to her. The last few drops slid down her throat as the faint scent of cinnamon wafted towards them from below. Buffy entered the hotel doors, unaware of them perched on the roof, a large box of cinnabons in her hands. "I guess she found her feet," Wesley mused, watching her slip into Hypertension.

"Always does," Faith countered. "I guess we better get back down there. Don't want Giles to have kittens or anything. I'm sure he's got some new big mission planned already." She sat the mug down on the ledge and stretched her arms over her head, her shirt lifting to reveal a hint of toned midriff.

"Yes, rebuilding the council," Wesley said absently, wondering how he'd gotten here. Working for a vampire with a soul, when he had been trained his whole life to be part of the Council. If Faith hadn't been so rebellious, if she hadn't reacted too quickly, if she had noticed just a second sooner her victim was human would he have ever broken free? Would he have still been bound by suits, ties, rules and regulations? Chained down to his job by a desire to please his father? He liked to think he was one of those rare people who had the strength of character to break from what is expected of them, to blaze their own path, but he knew if Faith hadn't stepped out of line he would have forever followed it.

"Not getting nostalgic are you, Wes?" she teased, a Cheshire grin crossing her face. "Longing for the days of books and patrollin'? Cuz if you are I know of at least a dozen girls down their in need of a watcher. Thinkin' about throwing your hat back in the ring?"

Faith might have been joking but the offer was real, had Wesley wanted to go, to take up his former position he was sure Giles would have no objections. He played it out in his mind, testing the idea, fitting it on for size, not Faith of course, she no longer needed a watcher, a young girl, someone docile and sweet, maybe Mr. Giles would help find him a match. He could train her, teach her what he knew, impart wisdom he never was able to share with Faith and Buffy. He wouldn't be so rigid, he would learn from his mistakes, he would be better, he would be... Staying here. He sighed, inhaling deeply, exhaling as he pushed those dreams from him, letting the past hopes and failures fly away on a breath of coffee. "Somehow I can't picture myself resuming that role again," he lied before turning the conversation away from him. "What about you? Are you going to go on to London with the others?"

"Don't have any better offers at the moment." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "It's not like I can stay here, not with my impressive jail break. Europe'll be cool as long as I don't end up killing one of the girls to use the shower. I know things are kind of tense with the lil' Scooby gang but I figure if I can avoid steppin' on any toes it'll be 5 by 5."

"So-so things are going okay then? You are readjusting well?"

"Not sayin' its flowers and puppies." She hooked a finger into the belt loop of her dark denim jeans. "But I'm holding my own, and they're really not that bad. They're different, ya know?"

"They have certainly changed," he conceded, eyes appraising Faith. She missed that look, her eyes were too busy taking in the city, storing it in her memory, the place she had finally found redemption. She knew in the morning there would be things to take care of, arrangements to be made, and she wouldn't have time to just be Faith, she would be another slayer, a girl on a mission. She would shed the skin of the past, she would no longer be the rogue slayer except in passing tales, she would become a hero. They would never see the old Faith, they would never see how she worked to subdue that girl within her. But he saw. Only she wasn't looking at him. She had given up on people seeing past what was painted in front of them, but he was a watcher. It was his job to see what others missed. And he saw her.

She yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth. "I guess I better get back in there. I'll sneak you up a cinnamon roll, Wes," she promised.

"Faith." He called, turning from the view to face her. He faltered for a moment, he wasn't raised where words of affection flowed easily but he knew he had to tell her. She might walk out of his life tomorrow, and she deserved to know. "For what it's worth I'm proud to have been your watcher." He had wanted to say 'proud of you', to tell her how he stood in awe at this woman in front of him where there had once been a lost little girl, but he didn't. He knew how it sounded, considering his tenor of watcher had been ranked as one of the worst in council history so he quickly amended. "Even if I did do a poor job of it."

Her eyes softened giving her an appearance of a colt about to shy but it was only a flash before the wall was firmly back in place. She smiled gently, her hand on the metal knob and she opened the door. "For what it's worth," she parroted back, "and I'm guessing coming from me it ain't a lot but you weren't half bad."

He nodded his head graciously but before she disappeared down the stairwell, he ran to catch the door. He held it open with one arm, peering down at her within the yellow lights of the staircase. "Do you think it's possible to sneak out and get some real coffee without them noticing us?" Faith grinned, accepting the challenge. There would be time to tell her later, for now he could be happy with some coffee, cream and a little healing.

  
-End-


End file.
